Corridor
by graffy
Summary: Harry blinked, staring at Hermione. He opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it as they both heard, echoing down the hall, Hermione? Hermione, where are you? Just an odd story. Somewhat crappity. Read at your own risk.
1. Chapter 1

my mum and dad would absolutely murder me if they knew i was saying this, but Happy Fourth! (i may have been born in London, but moving to America when you're four and living there for fifteen years will do that to you. Too bad i'm in England at the mo', and if anyone saw me saying this i'd get a nice slap upside the head. oh, well.

Disclaimer: JK owns it. I just toy around with it.

* * *

Harry had absolutely no bloody clue what happened. 

One minute, he was parting from Seamus with a laugh, making his way towards his Head Boy quarters, Firebolt slung over his shoulders and bangs sticking to his head from sweat after a grueling Quidditch practice, and the next...

Well, in the next minute he found himself very...very _pressed_ against one Hermione Granger, who had flown out of nowhere and shoved him into one of the hard walls of the corridor. Her bushy hair was tickling his nose, her face was pressed against his neck (ohdearmerlinhelphim-he-could-feel-her-breath-against-his-skin), her arms were braced on either side of him with her palms flat against the wall, and other very nice and very soft parts of her body were pressed against him as well.

Someone up there liked him today.

And yet, to his utter hormonal dispair, as quickly as she'd been flung against him, she pushed herself away. Stumbling backwards, she blinked up at him, eyes focusing to the horrid lighting as if she had no idea who she'd jus-

"Harry!" she breathed happily. "Thank Merlin it was you and not _Terry_."

-t run into. Oh. Well...bugger all.

His eyebrows furrowed behind his glasses, processing this latest information. "Terry? Terry Boot? Ravenclaw Terry?

"Yes," she replied, looking over her shoulder distractedly. "He's been after me all morning, and quite frankly I'm sick of it. He keeps insisting he needs help with his Muggle Studies work, but I don't think he's noticed that I dropped that course at the beginning of the year."

"Terry takes Muggle Studies?"

"I rather think he has a crush on me."

"Muggle Studies? Really?" He paused, adjusting his broomstick so that it didn't dig quite as painfully into his neck anymore. "Wait...you _think_ Terry Boot fancies you?"

Her head whipped around, and she looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Why did you say it like that?" she demanded. He started, looking around. "Like...what?"

"You know how," she persisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the corridor to their shared portrait. "You said it as if I was completely mad for _thinking_ Terry fancies me!"

'_Well, Hermione'_, Harry thought irritably, slightly annoyed that this time with her pressed against him was officially over. _'Maybe that's because half of the bloody school knows he likes you.'_

She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble and crash into her. "What do you mean," she asked slowly. "That half the school knows?"

Oh. Fuck. Had he really said that out loud?

"Yes, you did."

Harry blinked, staring at Hermione. He opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it as they both heard, echoing down the hall, "Hermione? Hermione, where are you?"

"Oh," Hermione breathed, and to Harry's surprise it came out more as a whimper. "Shit. Terry's found me." Suddenly, she looked at him with bright eyes. He knew that look. Hermione had an idea. And most likely, it would be something brilliant; like a flashy hex or-

She grabbed him by the collar of his Quidditch practice shirt. "Harry," she whispered quickly. "Whatever I do,I need you to play along, alright?" She cast a hasty glance to the curved corridor, where they could see Terry's flickering shadow growing smaller as he approached. "Please, Harry!"

"Alright," he agreed, confused. "But what is it you wa--mph!" His eyes widened to comical proportions as Hermione crushed her lips against his, then they rolled shut as she wound her arms around his neck and sent his broomstick clattering to the floor. His arms found themselves with one winding around her waist and pulling her closer to him, and the other looping under her arm and snaking into her hair. And then, when she opened her mouth to his and pressed her tongue against his lips...

He bloody lost it.

Spinning her around, he crushed her into the wall, pressing his long, hard (not like that, you pervy bastards. well...not yet, anyway) body against hers as he practically ate at her mouth. His tongue was stroking hers, and she was doing things to his mouth with her tongue that he'd only ever dreamed about and-

A strangled noise interrupted their snog. Hastily, Hermione pulled away and looked over Harry's shoulder. Dazed, he grunted out, "Hermione, what..." He turned, and saw Terry Boot staring at them, eyes wide and parchments fluttering out of his hands to lay forgotten on the floor.

He turned back to Hermione, who bit her lip, then said, "Terry...I'm sorry."

"No," he said, and Harry winced when the other boys voice came out several octaves higher. "No, it's...it's alright."

Hermione nodded, and Harry could see the colour rising in her cheeks. Clearing his throat, and wishing to save her from further embarassment, he bent down, picked up his Firebolt and grabbed Hermione's hand, and headed off to their shared dorm with a nod at Terry and a cheerful, "See you around!"

* * *

A/N- no, it's not a one shot. I had this planned out as a two chaptered fic, so expect the second later tonight/tomorrow. but reviews are pretty, until then! 


	2. Chapter 2

God, help me. It's almost three in the bloody morning, and I can't fucking sleep. I didn't realize jet lag could hit someone this hard. Bugger.

oh, and i don't own harry potter. though i do wish i owned draco malfoy, sexy little ferret that he is.

warning: very mild smuttage going on. just some not-very-descriptive dry humping

* * *

The next time they talk goes like this:

Harry was searching for her. Hermione was avoiding him. After a day of awkward silences and Harry's fumbling, bumbling attempts to talk to her, their confrontation came in the form of Hermione's tumble down her Head Girl staircase. Harry, who had been pacing in front of said stairs heavily debating how badly he would get hexed should he wander into her room, was there just in time for when Hermione utterly lost balance four steps from the bottom.

Of course, she reasoned later, she probably wouldn't have fallen if he hadn't been staring at her so unnervingly.

But, this author digresses.

She had forgotten to tie her shoelace. Not a particularly 'Hermione' thing to do, but then again, neither was tackling her best friend against a stone wall. Ah, well, point is that her shoelace caught under her other trainer, pulling her foot out to an awkward angle and forcing her ankle to give out from underneath her. Tumbling forward, she held her hands out and squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating a hard collision with the ground.

Instead, she collided with Harry.

He staggered, clutching her to him as he fell backwards and hit the carpeted floor of the Head Commons Room with a 'thump'. She landed on him, face buried into his neck once more, and pelvis fully jolting against his. Which, you know, bloody horrid thing to happen to a boy when he's trying to be sensible.

Harry stifled a groan, swallowing, then saying, "We have _got_ to stop meeting like this, Hermione. I'm starting to believe you're planning this."

She stiffened against him, then abruptly sat up. Dragging her legs forward so that she kneeled over him, straddling his hips, she leveled her hands on his chest, huffing indignantly. "Please, Harry. Like I would do th...are you alright?"

_'No,' _Harry thought to himself, gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His hands shot out to grip Hermione's waist, pressing her down onto him even more. _'I'm not alright, damn it. If you weren't bloody ON ME, then maybe I would...oh, Merlin. Oh Merlin, do that again. Yeah, shift a little to the left...**gods**_.'

He gasped, unable to hold it in anymore. His eyes flew open as she moved above him, leaning forward to bring her face closer to his. "Harry?" she questioned worriedly. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Hermione," he breathed out huskily, before lifting one of his hands free of her waist only to tangle it in her hair as he pulled her down into a kiss. Pulling back almost as quickly as he had pulled her in, he shifted his attention to her neck, nuzzling and sucking against it as she moaned against him.

"Harry," she gasped out. "Harry...what are you doing?"

"You started this," he muttered against her collarbone as an answer. "You bloody started this, Hermione Granger. Just (kiss) had to (kiss) hide from Terry Boot and (suck) kiss me." He rolled them over, so that now he lay above her body. Arms on either side of her now, so that he could hover above her, he parted her legs with one of his own, then pressed down into her so that she could feel the hardness growing in his trousers. She gasped again, but if the way she wrapped her legs around his waist meant anything, she certainly didn't mind.

"You," he whispered to her, bending down and brushing feather light kisses against her cheek and mouth, and began to move against her. "are absolutely addicting, Hermione." He kissed her then, slanting his open mouth against hers, and she responded eagerly. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as they continued to thrust at each other through their clothing.

Harry had never felt this way. Well, yeah, he had, but that was in a completely different context and also, in the showers. But this was different, because this time it was actually _with_ the girl of his dreams. And there she was, kissing him and feeling him and moving with him and everything was hot, too bloody hot and oh god oh god oh god he was going to _come_...

Hermione's head suddenly flew away from his with a gasp, her eyes widening and her grip tightening on him. He gritted his teeth (the buggers were going to be worn out by now if he wasn't careful), grunting out a "Hermione...bloody hell," before the world exploded in front of his eyes.

By the time he floated back down to earth, he had his face buried against Hermione's neck as they gasped for air against each other. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he sensed that he might be crushing her, so he rolled them over once more so that she lay on top of him.

"Bloody hell," he breathed against her. "That was amazing."

"Mm."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Have I reduced the great Hermione Jane Granger to monosyllables?"

"Shut up." She nuzzled her nose against his neck. "You did this to me."

"Quite happily, too," he added contently. "You know, this could've happened sooner if you hadn't avoided me."

"I'm sorry," she said, and rolled herself off of him. Standing, she straightened her blouse as he climbed to his feet. "Next time I practically molest you in front of Terry, I'll try not to feel so mortified."

"Brilliant," he said, grinning at her as he gripped her hand and led her towards his dorm. "Now, I feel like a shower. I've made a bit of a mess of myself." He glanced down at the darker shade of black that splotched over the crotch of his trousers. "Bugger. Anyway, shower. Care to join me?"

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him one last time. "Always."

* * *

A/N--sorry about the somewhat crap ending. as i said, jet lag. bastard. anyway, review please!


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